


freedom i've been looking for

by filthymouthedslut



Category: Blood and Ash Series - Jennifer L. Armentrout
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, alt ending to chapter 37, not a lot by my standards but jic, some violence ig?, the number of fics in this fandom is criminally low, trigger warning-suicide, tw-blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28306452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/filthymouthedslut/pseuds/filthymouthedslut
Summary: A retelling of Chapter 37, the scene where Jericho and the others attack Poppy.
Relationships: Poppy Balfour/Casteel Da'Neer
Comments: 5
Kudos: 34





	freedom i've been looking for

**Author's Note:**

> merry christmas to all those who celebrate it!

“Don’t do anything foolish, alright?”

“Of course not,” Poppy says, saccharine smile on her face. This was obviously not the truth. Already she was scanning the two men- _wolven-_ in front of her, checking for any injuries, any weaknesses. She knew she wouldn’t be able to outrun them. In fact, she was counting on the fact that they would. Keen eyes took in the various guns and knives strapped to their body, stupidly on show.

Like they knew their hands were far deadlier.

But this arrogance was also vital to her escape. She needed them to think she was planning something. Their egos would definitely not let her think she could best them, and Poppy’s hope diminishing would certainly stoke them.

“Don’t even think of escaping. There is no chance of it, and it would only result in unnecessary bloodshed. I don’t want to hurt you, and you don’t either. So just cooperate and it will be easy.”

When she remained silent, the other one spoke up. _Niall._

“We’re wolven. That means we are at least thrice as fast as you- and thrice as strong. You _will_ be overpowered so escaping? Not on option here.”

There it was.

Poppy willed her face to fall, to act like she had just lost all hope. She let it all show on her face, and she was right. Delano and Niall saw the look on her face, her drooped posture, and they relaxed a bit. The tension left their frames and their shoulders weren’t tense anymore. They still stood in their defensive position, but she could see that it was out of habit, not out of necessity.

“All right,” she said, voice small. She made sure not to make it weak. That could perhaps give away the plan. For this to work, she had to look resigned to her fate but still disgusted about it (which she was but she had to _look_ it). If things went south- which they probably would- she would be captured and bound. Poppy hated nothing more than to be another voiceless pawn in some scheme orchestrated by a power-hungry man. First it was the Duke, now it was Hawke.

Hawke.

Even the thought of him made her insides shrivel with dislike. Being the Dark One wasn’t some tiny detail he forgot to disclose. He was the very thing Poppy had been taught to be afraid of, to hate. While she was terrified of what he could do, she wasn’t scared _of_ him. But she certainly wouldn’t show it. She hated herself for enjoying their time together. Hated that she had been naïve enough to actually _fall_ for him. But nothing compared to the hate she felt for him. For lying to her, for leading her on, for making her believe he was there to protect her.

But maybe she didn’t hate him. Poppy hated the Duke with every fiber of her being, even in his death. What she felt towards the Duke was nothing like what she felt towards Hawke. With the Duke she felt pure anger, deep and unrelenting. With Hawke she felt betrayal, and dislike. Heavy dislike, the kind that turned her insides and muddled her brain. Yet she didn’t hate him.

She wanted to. But she couldn’t.

But she couldn’t think about him right now. For now she had to focus on her surroundings, her captors. Her chains were unlocked, falling to the floor with a heavy clang. Before she could so much as stretch her hands, they were bound again, this time by metal handcuffs.

Poppy opened her mouth to protest but Delano shook his head at her. “Can’t be too careful with you.”

She shut her mouth, but she smiled inside. Good. They though her as dangerous. At least she had some morsel of dignity left, whatever remained after Hawke burned it away with her idiocy.

She walked in between them, Niall to her left and Delano to her right. She was surprised there weren’t more of them.

They were wolven after all, They could probably take down any kind of enemy.

Poppy silently followed them, analyzing every breath, every movement. She monitored them for any subtle winces, hidden wounds. She caught Delano’s slight limp, barely noticeable. In fact, if she weren’t so experienced with hiding her own limp sometimes, she would have never noticed it.

His back was injured. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly where, but it was enough. If things went south, she knew where to strike him.

But this luck didn’t extend towards Niall. He seemed pain free, no noticeable scratches or impairments. If he had any, he was doing a damn well job of hiding it. Slightly disappointed, she instead evaluated their weapons. Two guns were slung along Delano’s hips, knife sheathed to his thigh. Niall carried three daggers strapped to his arms with the other at his waist. No guns.

Her best shot was at acquiring Delano’s guns. Daggers were useful only in hand-to-hand combat and she had no intention of being close enough to use them. While she had a wicked aim and had a good chance of throwing a dagger at them to injure them, it was too risky. Being wolven meant enhanced reflexes and speed- they would probably dodge or catch them. And she didn’t have enough time to spend on throwing daggers.

The guns on the other hand would be supremely useful. They could incapacitate them- if not kill them- for long enough for her to escape. While they were swift, their speed would considerably decrease if they were shot. This gave her enough time to run past the barriers and into the woods. She would figure out that part later.

Now it was time to run.

They reached a secluded area, far from her prison. She could still hear the muffled sounds of the others but it was enough. There was no one else except for the three of them and a small carriage. Beyond that it was only grass and mud- and then freedom.

She waited with bated breath for them to turn their backs, even for a split second. All she needed was that miniscule second to put her plan into action, but it never came. A huge mass slammed her to the ground, snatching her breath. She coughed as something pushed her face down into the mud, trying to get air into her lungs.

Instead she got a mouthful of sand and rocks, choking her and cutting of her circulation. Her instincts kicked in and she pushed a hand upward, to the throat of the mass and twisted. As she suspected, the pressure released and she sat up, coughing and spitting. Poppy shot to her feet not wasting any time, even as her lungs seized. Her eyes watered, mingling with the dirt on her face.

Jericho was the one who had taken her down. He too was coughing, and when he looked at her, his eyes glowed. He snarled, and pounced but Poppy jumped back. He slashed out with his claws, and she wasn’t fast enough to twirl to avoid it. It ripped her sleeve open, flesh tearing. She felt no pain as adrenaline took charge, and instead she swung her foot, smashing it into his face.

She danced on her toes as he righted himself, nose leaking blood. The rage on his face deepened as he readied for another attack. This time he used his feet. He swiped his foot, taking her down. She had practiced this maneuver enough to know how to get out of it. As she fell, she reached out with her own foot, making him lose his balance with her. But before Jericho could roll over to kill her, she popped up, stumbling slightly as she started off in a backward jog, trying to put as much distance as possible between them.

Poppy saw two others fighting with Niall and Delano, a maze of claws and fangs. There was no one to help them, no one to rescue them. While a part of her wanted to, she knew if she did, her chance at freedom would be forever ruined.

“Poppy!” Delano yelled from his position on the ground where he keeping one of the wolven from tearing his face off. “The sword-take the sword!”

She looked to where he was pointing, noticing the gleaming blade with a rusted scabbard. She snatched it as she ran, picking up a sharp rock with it. Before she could take a step, another wolven pounced, slashing her neck. By pure luck he didn’t hit an artery. The wounds weren’t deep enough to actually kill her, so Poppy ignored it, instead bringing the rock down on his face. He fell back, having passed out or died, she didn’t know.

Or care when she saw Jericho with two others sprinting towards her. She threw one of the daggers she had swiped from Niall before, and it hit its target. The huge brown one went down, hand clamping his heart. Yet the other two didn’t slow. Jericho reached her first, growling as he caught her right in the stomach. Poppy gasped as the air left her lungs, falling to her knees. She moved her sword in an arc as she stood up again, happy to hear the sound of tearing flesh.

But this had slowed her, and she wasn’t able to recover before the other one clawed her leg, reducing her calf to ribbons. She cried out as she fell, pain finally catching up to her. Poppy looked up to see Jericho looming over her, the others all lying on the ground, chests halted.

Despite the pain, despite the death that surely awaited her, Poppy grinned. At least she had gone down swinging.

She could hear more wolven pouring in, and yet no one helped her. They were on Jericho’s side, it seemed. She counted ten, eleven of them, including the ones the ones who had already attacked her.

“She’s my kill,” Jericho snarled to the others, fangs gleaming with blood. As she lay there bleeding, she took a mental inventory of her wounds. Broken nose, shattered cheekbone, slashes to the neck, arms and chest, leg in ribbons. The only thing unharmed was her left leg.

But before she could scheme another plan, Jericho pinned her to the ground, digging his claws into her wounds, She cried out again as they sundered anew, burning with new pain. But she clenched her teeth, glaring into Jericho’s eyes.

He grinned, dripping blood, _her blood,_ onto her face.

“Told you I’d make good on my promise.”

Poppy swore, filthy and nasty. Jericho snarled, bringing his hand down on her ches to rip her heart out. And then to feast on her entrails. Claws pierced het tunic, into her skin before he was thrown of her. She opened her eyes enough to see someone shoving him off, before striking him on the head hard enough to down him. Then she shut them again, inching towards that blissful darkness.

_Hawke._

“Poppy- fuck, fuck, fuck- can you hear me?”

She nodded, the movement causing her to hiss as her neck flared. She heard the sound of his knees hitting the ground, and then his hands were cupping her face. She cracked an eye open to see his face right above hers, eyes a molten ore of gold. She tried to speak, to say something but her chest spasmed, and she choked on blood. He immediately let go, helping her sit up as she coughed blood onto the ground. Her throat and neck throbbed, scorching pain overtaking.

But it was enough for the wheels in her mind to spin.

From her bent-over position, she saw Hawke stand up, moving near her legs as he called for someone. Before he could crouch down to examine her shredded leg, she moved. Her left leg struck, catching his feet and he tumbled, surprise dulling his reflexes. She shot up, hopping on her left leg as she snatched his gun from his belt. Poppy flipped it, aiming at his forehead as he stood, momentum having passed. The barrel of the gun was barely an inch from his skin, and the movement halted all the other who had come to assist him.

Hawke stared at her, eyes piercing hers. Once they might have made her knees weak. But now, they steeled them. She balanced on her good foot, not moving an inch, gun still pointed. Others made to approach but a flick of Hawke’s fingers made them stop.

“Poppy,” he said, voice low. “Put down the gun.”

“No.”

His jaw clenched, and before he could as much as twitch, she cocked it, noise stopping his movements. Again he tried to move, and Poppy’s finger moved on the trigger. He remained calm, even as her finger pressed into it. If she applied even the tiniest of force more, she would blow his brains out.

“Poppy,” he repeated, and the use of her nickname irked her. Before she could sneer at him, he continued. “You kill me, and its game over. It will descend into _anarchy._ They’ll take the Ascended, including your brother- you know what happens next Poppy. Put down the gun and you’ll be safe. Be _alive,_ ” he stressed.

Poppy paused, moving the gun away from his forehead. But before he could steal it back, she turned it.

Hawke went deathly still as the barrel pressed into her temple. Fear flashed in in his eyes, for the briefest of seconds, before it vanished. Everyone went still too, watching her every movement.

Poppy grinned, teeth gleaming scarlet with her blood.

“You’re right. Killing you won’t help anyone. Killing me, on the other hand, throws a wrench in your plans, doesn’t it? Without me to trade for you brother, you have no leverage. Leaving the Ascended free to track down and kill each and every one of you. You might be faster, but they have numbers. What’s one wolven against 4 of the Ascended? Or even against 10 regular soldiers. We have weapons even you couldn’t outrun. You know this Hawke, don’t you?” she asked, voice sharp despite the pain.

Hawke remained silent, tracking her every breath.

“Poppy, you don’t know what you’re talking about. The Ascended are _wrong_ ,” someone else said from behind Hawke. She shifted a bit, angling her head to catch sight of the speaker.

Kieran.

The metal of the barrel was cold against her head. She rolled her eyes, baring her teeth in that smirk again.

“That they might be. But they aren’t _monsters,_ ” she spat. Every one of the wolven’s body tensed as if the word had physically hurt them somehow. Poppy remained standing with the gun to her head, eyes boring into Hawke’s. He hadn’t said anything, and she didn’t know if that was good or bad.

She dropped the gun as something tackled her to the ground again. She heard Hawke yell, but her eyes were on Jericho’s. He had somehow escaped his bonds.

She nodded once, and he howled as he slashed for her throat. But this time, he didn’t miss.

Once again he was thrown off her- but the deed was done. She lay there, still as her vision started to blacken at the edges. She knew what was coming- and she was ready for it.

Hawke’s face appeared as he lifted her, settling her on his lap. He was saying something, but her ears were drowning with the sound of her blood gushing out. But she concentrated, focusing on the movement of his mouth.

“You’re not dying, Poppy. I’m not going to let you.” But she could see it on his face. He knew there was no coming back from this. This was it.

Poppy wanted nothing more than to say something biting, but she couldn’t. Her mouth moved without her even realizing and she heard herself speak.

“Was it real?” The words were barely above a whisper, but she knew he had heard it. His face twisted, and he opened his mouth, and then shut it again.

Mistaking his silence for something else, she continued speaking.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter now. At least-,” she paused, coughing as blood dribbled down her chin. Everything hurt- but the darkness was almost here.

“At least I’m free now.”

Poppy closed her eyes, sinking into that endless abyss. Just before it was time, Hawke spoke up.

“It was real.”

She looked up at him, taking in the pull of his mouth, the silver in his eyes. She blinked- and it was gone again. She could hear him speaking above her, and she fought against the darkness, just for a little bit of time. She opened her eyes for the last time, saw his face for the last time. Then her ears went silent. She could no longer hear her blood pumping. She smiled, a small one, before death took her away.

_She was finally free._

**Author's Note:**

> drop a kudos if you wanna<3


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